


A Stained Glass Variation of the Truth

by UchiHime



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Gender Dysphoria, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Infidelity, M/M, Misgendering, Mpreg, Not a chat fic, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Recreational Drug Use, Time Skips, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Pregnancy, Transphobia, trans connor murphy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 13:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13904913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UchiHime/pseuds/UchiHime
Summary: Evan:I had sex with Connor Murphy.Jared:Was that a typo?Jared:That had better been a typo.Jared:Surely what you meant to say was that you had sex with Zoe Murphy: the hot girl that is way out of your league yet somehow deemed you worth dating despite your many MANY flaws.Jared:That girl is practically a saint for putting up with you, so there’s no way you boned her psycho brother instead.Evan:It was not a typo. I had sex with Connor.Connor sleeps with his sister's boyfriend. There are lasting consequences.





	A Stained Glass Variation of the Truth

“a stained glass variation of the truth”

Connor had thrown a printer at his teacher in second grade. Everyone knew that. Even people he hadn’t known in second grade, even kids who’d gone to a different elementary school, even people who were too old or too young to know or care about what happened in that one second grade class: _everyone_ knew that Connor Murphy had thrown a printer at Mrs. G. They would never let him forget it.

But what people loved to forget was _why_ Connor had thrown that printer. The most popular retelling was that she wouldn’t let him be line leader that day. This retelling contained a single, miniscule, grain of truth. It had been Connor’s turn to be line leader that day. Mrs. G knew this and was going to let him do the job. The problem was, she’d announced that _Angela_ Murphy would be line leader that day.

The summer before second grade, Connor’s parents had finally agreed to seek a professional opinion about Connor’s ongoing insistence that he was a boy. The deciding moment had been when Connor had taken all the clothes and dolls from his room, dumped them on the barbecue pit in the backyard, and set them alight.

As luck would have it, they’d found the only somewhat progressive doctor in town and he’d told them to just let Connor have his way. “ _A child’s concept of gender is elastic and is defined primarily by the gender roles society forces on them. Maybe what you have here is a tomboy balking at being forced into acting like what society thinks a girl should be. Or maybe her gender really is out of line with her body’s sex. At this point, it’s much too early to tell. So what you should do, is let her explore her gender in her own way._

_“She says she wants to be a boy? Cut her hair, buy her some new clothes, and let her choose a new name if she wants. But always make sure she knows that even with now being treated as a boy, she’s allowed to go back to being a girl if she ever wants to. Stop trying to make her be a girl now, but also don’t let her think she has to be a boy forever._

_“If, a few years from now, she still identifies as male and starts showing some real signs of gender dysphoria, we’ll start her on some puberty blockers. Which are not permanent and are reversible. And then eventually we can consider some hormone replacement therapy, but it’s too early to even think about that right now. This may just be a phase. Angela could just as easily go back to being Angela, but for now, let him decide who he is.”_

His father had always wanted a son, but his mother hadn’t wanted more than two children and thus killed his father’s dreams after giving birth to two baby girls in a row. So, one would think Larry Murphy would have been over the moon with this new development. But one would be wrong, because Larry Murphy was decidedly not pleased at all.

Larry may have wanted a son, but he’d accepted the fact that he had only daughters and had replaced his plans for little league games and camping trips with princess parties and picnics. Because girls were girls and they did not act like boys and he didn’t want or expect them to. He was an indulgent and loving father, willing to spoil his girls rotten. He affectionately called them “ABC” and “XYZ” because of their names and happily set through every tea party Zoe hosted, played dress up and let her paint his nails. Zoe was always the perfect daughter. 

Angela was always more difficult, but he’d done his best with her as well. He’d helped her paint her bedroom walls with stick figures and wonky shaped animals. Had bought her pounds of crayons and coloring books. And showed up to every one of her soft ball games.

He may have wanted sons, but he loved his daughters and they were a normal family.

There was nothing normal about this mess, but Cynthia insisted that this would make Angela happier in the long run, so Larry had reluctantly gone alone with it.

Connor had chosen his name because he _liked_ his dad calling him “ABC” and when his mom had taken him to the barber shop, he’d excitedly asked for the same haircut his dad always got. He thought this would only make him closer with his dad.

So by time the new school year had started, Angela Murphy had become Connor Murphy, and while none of his paperwork noted the change, his mom had come to the school and made sure all the staff and administrators knew to call him Connor and treat him as a boy.

Mrs. G, who probably would have been happier teaching at a Catholic school, was not too thrilled about this. She called him Angela more often than not and always grouped him with the girls during boys-vs-girls classroom games. 

Connor had complained to his parents, but they’d thought it was okay that someone treated him as a girl. The doctor had told them to make sure he knew that this didn’t have to be a permanent change, after all. Connor did not think this was okay, but he’d put up with it, and put up with it, and put up with it, until he couldn’t put up with it anymore.

On the upside, no one ever mentioned that Connor Murphy had once been Angela Murphy anymore. He’d been Connor longer than he’d been Angela now. On the downside, he was forever known as the freak who’d thrown a printer at a teacher.

Also, his dad had never called him ABC again.

Larry had found it hard to accept Connor as he was. He still bought him princess coloring books and “accidentally” called him Angela. He was disappointed in everything Connor did and just wanted him to go back to being his little girl.

Connor quit baseball because the girls on the soft ball team called him names and threw balls at him behind the storage shed after practice one day, and the boys on the little league team threatened him before he could even think of joining them. He hadn’t told his parents why he’d quit, just that he didn’t want to play anymore. He’d thought he was saving them heartache by not telling them that all the other kids hated him. 

Unfortunately baseball was the main way he and his dad bonded, so without that connection, the distance between Connor and Larry became near insurmountable.

The first sign that Larry was starting to accept him was a toy plane. Connor had loved that fucking plane. Had played with it all the time. Had refused to let Zoe touch it. It was his most favorite toy in the world.

But his love wasn’t because of a love of planes, nor because he was particularly fond of remote control toys. Connor loved that plane because it was the first gift given to him from father to son.

Larry had crashed the plane into a creek. He’d thought Connor was being overdramatic with how upset he was about it. 

Connor always experienced emotions in extremes. Either he felt too little about anything or much too much about everything. Larry always belittled him for it. Being too emotional was the domain of girls, not acceptable for the boy he claimed to be. But if he was too emotionless, he was heartless and ungrateful. So Connor tried to fake emotions when he felt nothing and smother his feelings when he felt too much. But there was no pleasing Larry.

Connor thought his mom was on his side, would always be on his side, but when Connor turned twelve and was still proudly declaring himself male, having never wavered in this conviction for even a single moment no matter how many subtle (and less-than-subtle) reminders that it would be okay if wanted to go back to being a girl he was faced with, Cynthia did waver. 

At the first signs that he was starting to grow breasts, Connor had thrown a fit. He’d declared that he would cut them off himself if something wasn’t done about it. So they went back at the doctor’s office to discuss getting Connor started on puberty blockers. 

His mom had accidentally (though Connor would come to realize it was most likely on purpose) left her purse in the car and had sent Connor back to get it, promising him candy from the vending machine if he did so.

Connor had sprinted down the hall, only to realize he’d forgotten to grab the car keys and had doubled back to get them, only to stop outside the door when he’d heard his mother talking to the doctor, “ _We did everything you said. I let him pick his own toys and clothes at the store, I let him cut his hair. I didn’t try to make him act a certain way and I never let him think this had to be a forever choice. You said that this was just a phase! You said that if we stopped trying to force traditional girl things on him, he would come around.”_

 _“I said it_ might _be a phase,” the doctor clarified, “there was always a possibility that Connor might actually be transgender and would want to live as a boy forever.”_

_Cynthia sniffled. “I just want my child back. I love Connor, and I will support him in every way I can, but sometimes it’s like I don’t even know him. I did what you said and let him try being a boy because you said it would make him happy. But that child has never been happy a day in his life. If he’s going to be miserable either way, why can’t he just be miserable as Angela? Why add all this extra nonsense that just makes the rest of us miserable too?”_

Connor, not wanting to hear more, had run away and hid in the bathroom. He’d stayed in the bathroom, crying for fifteen minutes, before telling himself to suck it up and act like a boy should. He’d gone back to the doctor’s office, because no matter what else had happened that day, he was absolutely not leaving without puberty blockers. 

Larry ruins that.

One of the requirements for getting puberty blockers is a therapist’s recommendation. To Larry Murphy, psychology and psychiatry may as well be unproven pseudoscience. There’s no way in hell anyone in their family was going to see a therapist.

No matter how much Cynthia tries to explain that this wouldn’t be the same as putting Connor in therapy to try to fix is behavioral problems or get him diagnosed with a mental disorder, Larry wouldn’t hear it.

Maybe, in his own way, Larry thought he was helping Connor. Larry was under the firm belief that parents who stuck their children in therapy and dosed them up with medications were just lazy. There was so such thing as ADD or ADHD and other such nonsense. It all boiled down to bad parents who were looking for easy solutions, unwilling to do the right thing just because it was harder. 

So, Connor couldn’t start puberty blockers at age twelve like he’d wanted to. He hated his dad almost as much as he hated his developing body.

At age fifteen, his baggiest shirt no longer conceals the mounds that had grown his chest. In her continuing attempts to be supportive, his mom had found him a binder on the internet that was supposedly safer than other binding options. The binders helps with the dysphoria a bit, but Connor can’t be arsed to bother with it sometimes. He usually just goes with loose fitting, baggy clothing. 

But his breasts had continued developing and now loose clothing wouldn’t cut it. So, Connor decided to follow up on what he’d said when he was twelve: he was going to cut them off himself.

After finding Connor half-dead from blood loss following his attempt at self-mutilation, Cynthia had put her foot down. It was too late for Connor to start puberty blockers (being pretty much done with puberty at that point), but he was at a good age to start physically transitioning. 

By the time Connor was released from the hospital, he had a prescription for testosterone.

This should have been the start of his happily ever after, right?

Connor stops cutting his hair and starts painting his nails and makes out with boys in cars and Larry loses his fucking mind. Because these are all signs that Connor really is a girl and all the shit he’s put this family through for the last almost decade was just him being a difficult little asshole.

It’s just impossible for Connor to be both trans and gay! Connor either liked boys or was a boy, he couldn’t have it both ways. There’s just no way they’d fucked him up that badly. All of this was just Connor being selfish and wanting attention and Larry was sick of it. 

The house becomes a warzone. WWIII: Connor versus Larry. Zoe takes Larry’s side because Connor is obviously the cause of everything that’s wrong with their family. Cynthia tries to play mediator, but no one wants to hear it.

Connor hates his dad and his sister and sometimes his mom and the entire fucking world. But more than any of that, he hates his own damn self. So he slices himself up to release the pressure building inside. And he smokes pot to make himself numb to the world. And he wishes he was dead. He’s miserable all the time and everyone else is miserable too.

* * *

**Evan:** I had sex with Connor Murphy.

 **Jared:** Was that a typo?  
**Jared:** That had better been a typo.  
**Jared:** Surely what you meant to say was that you had sex with Zoe Murphy: the hot girl that is way out of your league yet somehow deemed you worth dating despite your many MANY flaws.  
**Jared:** That girl is practically a saint for putting up with you, so there’s no way you boned her psycho brother instead.

 **Evan:** It was not a typo. I had sex with Connor.

 **Jared:** What the fuck, Evan?

 **Evan:** It was an accident.

 **Jared:** Accident? How do you accidentally have sex with the wrong person?  
**Jared:** Was you just like chilling at the Murphy house in the dark, and you were blind, and you walked into the wrong room by mistake and just like stuck your dick in the first hole you could find?

 **Evan:** No! That is not how it happened.

 **Jared:** Well paint me a picture here, Evan. I’m trying to understand how someone could fuck up this badly.

Evan sighed, because even he couldn’t understand how someone could mess up this badly and he’d been the one doing the messing up.

...

Zoe Murphy was the most perfect person in the universe. Evan had been crushing on her his entire life, it felt like. And somehow he’d managed to get the courage up to admit his feelings to her… okay that was inaccurate. Evan had written her a letter confessing his feelings and was about to tear it up and flush it down the toilet, when Jared had stolen it and slipped it into her locker.

Evan had thought he was going to actually die, but when Zoe found the note, she didn’t laugh at him or tease him or tell the whole school or anything like that. Zoe had found him after classes and requested to speak with him privately. 

Once they were alone (in one of the music practice rooms because she needed to head to Jazz Band rehearsal after their conversation) she’d asked him if he’d meant everything he’d said in the letter (he had of course meant every word he’d written and he had written a lot, like how her smile was beautiful and perfect, and how that smile always made him feel so much better, and how he’d noticed her boredom doodling on her jeans, and how adorable it was that she always looked so serious when doing the quizzes in teen magazines, and how cool she had looked when she’d dyed her hair, and how cute her dancing was, and so much other stuff he’d wanted to tell her for years but had never known how). 

Evan had stumbled over his words, but somehow managed to express his sincerity in a coherent enough manner to bring one of those subtle and perfect smiles to Zoe’s face. Then she’d asked him if he would like to go out with her sometime.

For their first date, Zoe had picked Evan up at his house (because she had a car and he didn’t and sometimes it was good to shake up gender roles). They’d gone out for frozen yogurt. 

Evan had wanted to take her to dinner, but he couldn’t really afford a decent meal at a traditional “date-y” restaurant (and he’d been worried about having to talk to the waiter to order his food, because there was no way he could do that without making a fool of himself. And would Zoe expect him to order for her too? Sometimes guys did that in movies and their dates thought it was manly and sexy to be so assertive and Evan Hansen was pretty much the opposite of assertive. They could have gone to a buffet instead and not worry about waiters and ordering, but buffets weren’t really a date place. And if they did go to a buffet, how many plates were too many? Would Zoe think he was fat if he went back for a third plate and dessert? Would she think he thought she was fat if _she_ went back for a third date and dessert?)

So, frozen yogurt. Evan had paid for it and they had gone for a walk in the park across the street. It was awkward for a while, because Evan had no idea what to say, so he’d avoided saying anything by stuffing a large spoonful of frozen yogurt in his mouth and had given himself brain freeze, which actually managed to break the ice. 

Zoe had giggled at him wincing in discomfort, then had reached out and tilted his head back. Apparently tilting your head back for ten seconds cured brain freeze, who knew? Well Zoe knew. Though the heated blush that filled his face when she’d touched him might have been what actually cured him.

Zoe had then started telling him about how her family used to go on picnics at the apple orchard, before it had closed down, and how they’d always stopped for ice cream at this place called A La Mode and how one time she and Connor had raced to see who could eat their ice cream the fastest and she swore the brain freeze she had gotten had lasted a full hour.

As they were talking, they’d still been walking and they’d found a live band performing at one of the park’s pavilions. It was a jazz band, so of course they’d had to sit and watch. Evan had laid his jacket down on the grass so Zoe could sit without staining her pants and they’d stayed there until after sunset, just enjoying the music and having casual conversation.

When Zoe had driven him home that night, he’d hesitantly asked if she would maybe like to go out with him again sometime, and she’d said yes and Evan had again felt like he was going to die, but this time from happiness.

Their second date had been to see a movie. (Evan had read online that movies were a bad first date, because you were in a dark space, expected not to talk to each other for two hours and that was no way to get to know someone, but he figured it would be fine for a second date and he kind of really needed the two hours of no talking.) He learned that Zoe ate Reese’s Pieces with her popcorn (not just bought both, she actually mixed them up and ate them together) and she was a bit critical of the heroines in romance movies, but even more critical of the love interests.

The movie theater had an arcade in it so they’d stopped there after their movie and Evan had actually managed to win a stuffed bear from the claw machine. It had made him look so cool when he’d proudly presented it to Zoe.

Their third date was dinner at a place with a build your own taco bar and Evan wasn’t even given the chance to worry about how many tacos would be too many tacos, because as soon as they were inside, Zoe had challenged him to a taco eating contest. Zoe had eaten six tacos! Evan had barely managed to finish his fourth. And afterwards they’d gone for dessert at a gourmet cupcake place that had just opened in the area. Zoe had paid for the cupcakes since Evan had insisted on paying for the tacos and they’d ended up sitting in there, nibbling on their cupcakes and talking about nothing important, until the employees had to kick them out so they could close.

Every date they had, made Evan more and more sure that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Zoe Murphy. (Though the fourth date, when Evan had had to have dinner with Zoe’s family had terrified him so much, he had wondered if it was actually worth it to not just die alone.)

Fast forward three months, he and Zoe were still dating. She was still amazing and beautiful. They held hands in the halls at school and went on dates every weekend and had even kissed. Zoe had even seen Evan through a panic attack without freaking out and deciding to dump him in order to find a boyfriend who wasn’t so dumb he forgot how to breathe sometimes.

Zoe was everything. So, how the hell had Evan ended up having sex with her brother?

Well, Evan had been at the Murphy house doing homework with Zoe (she was taking a class he had already taken the previous year, so he was helping her with it, though she didn’t really need the help and just wanted the excuse to have him over on a school night) when her mom had come in and asked Zoe to go to the store with her (maybe “asked” was too kind of a word, because Mrs. Murphy really wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer.)

Mrs. Murphy had said it would just be a quick trip and Evan didn’t have to leave, but he couldn’t come with them because it was going to be their little ‘girls’ time’. She’d volunteer Connor to keep Evan company until they got back. Evan had spent a bit of time with Connor since he’d started dating Zoe (all such occasions when Mrs. Murphy dragged Zoe away and pushed Evan towards Connor. Evan wasn’t sure of the motive behind this, did she not like him with Zoe, or did she just want to force Connor into a friendship?), but he wouldn’t call them “friends.” And he wasn’t sure how thrilled Connor would be being made to babysit Evan while Zoe was out, but Mrs. Murphy had insisted Evan go upstairs to Connor’s room right that second and had watched him until he (awkwardly and reluctantly) had done so.

Connor had been in the bathroom when Evan made it up to his room, and Evan had figured he would just wait in there until he was sure Zoe and Mrs. Murphy were gone, then he’d sneak out before Connor got back. Maybe he would text Zoe and tell her his mom had called him home or something, instead of awkwardly waiting for her in the living room, not knowing what to do with himself.

But Connor had come back before Evan could leave his room, and apparently he’d been in the shower because he’d been wearing nothing but a towel around his waist and his wet hair was dripping water down his chest.

Connor had demanded to know what the fuck Evan was doing in his room. Evan had blushed and stammered out nonsense, tripping over his words trying to explain that Connor’s mom had sent him up, but he was going to leave now and sorry for intruding, and Connor had a nice room by the way; very suiting to his personality, and hey cool poster, and a bunch of other jumbled together sentence fragments.

Connor had huffed and turned away, opening his closet to find clothes to put on. There was a full length mirror on the inside of the closet and Evan had gotten distracted staring at the reflection of a drop of water rolling over the scars on Connor’s chest. 

Evan had always found Connor beautiful. He’d had a crush on him for as long as he’d had a crush on Zoe, but Zoe had been the only one he’d admitted to. She was a safer option. More approachable than Connor and less likely to get him beat up after school. But just because he never admitted to the crush on Connor didn’t mean the attraction wasn’t there.

Connor had noticed him staring and had angrily asked why the fuck he was still standing there.

Evan had stumbled over more apologies and had reached for the door when Connor had said, “ _whatever, you can stay if you want. I don’t want to hear Cynthia’s mouth if I kick you out. Just don’t fucking say anything. And keep your eyes to yourself._ ”

Evan had awkwardly (so much of everything he did was done awkwardly, yeesh!) stood by the door, staring at his shoes (and wondering about the stain on the carpet by his left shoe, was that nail polish, it looked like nail polish). He could hear Connor still over by the closet pulling on clothes. Then he heard the sound of a person throwing themselves down onto a bed. 

“ _Well, don’t just stand there. Sit down!”_ Connor had demanded. But the only places to sit were on the bed or on the floor and Jared had always told Evan that sitting on the floor was weird so Evan had hesitantly lowered himself onto Connor’s bed.

For a minute, they didn’t speak but then Connor had pulled a marijuana cigarette (they’re called joints when they’re wrapped in paper right? Or were those blunts? Evan didn’t know. He didn’t do drugs and D.A.R.E. classes had been so long ago) out of his bedside table, lit up, took a hit, and asked “ _So, have you and my sister fucked yet?”_

Evan had turned bright red and had yelled out a jumble of apologies and firm denials and Connor had responded by asking “ _why not?”_

Evan had turned even redder and had stammered out sounds that barely counted as real words. “ _I-I’ve never… I… I’m a…”_

 _“A virgin?”_ Connor had completed for him. “ _Zoe’s not.”_

_“What?”_

Connor had shrugged and taken a slow inhale from his joint (Evan was pretty sure it was a joint and not a blunt, he’d seen mention of it in a movie once). _“Zoe’s not a virgin. Not since band camp last summer. I overheard her talking about it…”_ He’d said it as casually as if he was talking about the weather. _“So if you haven’t fucked, how far have you and Zoe gone? She give you a handy in the back of her car?”_

Evan had almost choked on air. “ _No! Kissing. Kissed. We-we’ve just kissed.”_

Connor had rolled his eyes and said, “ _whatever. It’s not like I really care what you and my sister get up to.”_ He’d taken another drag from his joint and leaned back against the headboard, he released the smoke in a long sigh. “ _How about with someone else? You and Kleinman seem pretty close. Any friendly handjobs and blowjobs there?”_

“ _N-no!”_ Evan had spluttered out. “ _Jared and I… we’re just friends.”_

Connor had raised a single eyebrow in response. “ _You know, straight guys usually play the ‘not gay’ card before the ‘just friends’ card.”_

Evan had blushed. “ _I’m not… I-I like… I’m b-... bi or pan or something? Not straight.”_

_“Oh… I see.”_

Evan had been sporting a slight chub since the moment Connor had entered the room in nothing but a towel. He’d tried to conceal it beneath his hands fidgeting in his lap, but he’d only grown harder the longer he’d spent in Connor’s presence. 

There was something alluring about watching Connor smoke. Something pretty in the way his eyelashes dusted his cheeks. Something almost delicate in the way he moved his hands. Something sensual in the way he parted his lips. Something hypnotic in the way he looked out through half-closed eyes. Evan had been unable to look away from him.

A cloud of smoke slipped out from between Connor’s lips and filled the space between them, floating around Evan’s face and tickling his nose until he coughed uncomfortably. Connor had grinned lazily and held out the joint towards Evan. _“Do you partake?”_ Already expecting Evan’s negations and denials, Connor had set up straight and leaned into Evan’s space, one hand falling on Evan’s thigh. “ _You want to try it?”_

“ _Uh…_ ” but further denials had died in Evan’s throat when he’d realized just how _close_ Connor had gotten (they were practically sharing the same breaths) and how intense Connor’s eyes were. “ _I…”_

“ _C’mon.”_ Connor had said, “ _we can shotgun.”_

_“No… I… uh… shotgun?”_

Connor had licked his lips and Evan couldn’t help but follow that slight movement of his tongue, so his eyes were already on the other boy’s mouth when his lips tugged back into a smile. “ _Yeah, shotgun. It’ll be good, I promise. Just close your eyes.”_

Not knowing what else to do, Evan had done as directed. He’d closed his eyes, hyper-aware of Connor next to him and his hand still on Evan’s thigh. 

“ _Part your lips a bit.”_ Connor had ordered. Evan had heard the crinkling of the joint paper burning as Connor took another hit, then felt the bed shifting beneath him as Connor moved closer to him. And then there was suddenly another pair of lips on his own. Evan’s eyes had flew open in surprise, but before he could even think of pulling away, the smoke Connor had been holding in his mouth was blown into Evan’s.

Evan had pulled away, his body rebelling against the sudden presence of smoke in his lungs by prompting a coughing fit. Connor had practically fallen over with how hard he was laughing at Evan. Evan had done his best to glare at him, but Connor was unphased. 

_“C’mon,_ ” Connor had said once Evan’s coughing and his own laughter had subsided, _“let’s try again.”_

Evan had wanted to protest, but he’d already been too caught up in Connor’s allure. He’d closed his eyes and parted his lips and waited for Connor to try it again. This time he was ready for the smoke and just breathed in when Connor pressed their lips together.

It had felt weird. The smoke had danced around his lungs, not quite burning, not quite tickling, until he’d exhaled it. His whole body had felt like it was tingling. The floaty feeling he’d gotten probably had nothing to do with the drugs (surely he hadn’t gotten high that fast from just a little smoke) and everything to do with the way Connor was pressed up against him.

Connor’s hand had rubbed up and down his thigh, brushed against the still present hardness in Evan’s pants, and settled on his waist. “ _One more time,_ ” Connor had said and Evan could only nod and close his eyes again.

Connor had moved against his side and Evan had parted his lips in expectation, but this time when Connor’s lips had pressed against his own, there was no smoke passing between them. Connor’s mouth was hot and eager and Evan had kissed back with only a little hesitation.

Connor had pulled away after only a moment, those so very intense eyes looking in to Evan’s to gauge his reaction, and Evan had shamelessly chased his mouth to restart the kiss. Connor had thrown a leg over Evan’s thighs to settle in his lap, and when he’d pressed against Evan’s crotch, Connor had swallowed the moan Evan released much easier than Evan had swallowed the smoke.

Evan had gripped Connor’s hips and bucked up against him and Connor had eagerly reciprocated, grinding down and panting with desire. And Evan had known. He’d known he needed to stop. He’d known he shouldn’t be doing this, not with Connor (not to Zoe), but Connor was just so fucking beautiful. Their lips had separated and Connor had thrown his head back and was making such addicting sounds as he gyrated in Evan’s lap.

Evan had known this wasn’t right, but he hadn’t cared. With more confidence then he had ever felt in his entire life, he’d rolled them over and pinned Connor to the bed beneath him. Connor’s expression had been startled for only a second, before the look in his eyes had changed.

He’d looked at Evan with such heat and desire, Evan had felt like the center of Connor’s universe. He’d felt like no one else would ever want him as much as Connor had wanted him in that moment. Evan had quickly captured Connor’s mouth in another kiss, and everything had devolved from there.

It was shamefully quick, kind of messy, and really good. So good that Evan was momentarily too blissed out to realize what the hell he had just done. 

But realization had hit like a ton of bricks when the front door had opened downstairs and Zoe had called out his name.

Evan had jumped out of Connor’s bed, pulled on his clothes as quickly as he could, and ran out of the Murphy house without looking back, ignoring Zoe yelling after him.

...

 **Jared:** So the important question here is, does Connor have a dick?

* * *

As far as Connor could tell, Evan had not told Zoe about them having sex. Which was kinda strange because Evan Hansen seemed like the “honest to a fault” type. Definitely not the type to cheat on his girlfriend and then keep it from her.

But Zoe showed no knowledge of what had transpired between Connor and Evan, though she did know _something_ happened from the way Evan had run out and had refused to step foot in the Murphy house in the months since. Zoe just assumed Connor had been his usual asshole self. It probably didn’t even occur to her to think that her “charming and sweet” boyfriend would ever be unfaithful to her, especially not with her problem-child, tranny of a brother.

But that was Zoe’s problem.

Connor’s problem was the plastic stick in his hand. The plastic stick that he had shoplifted from a drug store on the other side of town, because there was no way in hell he was going to pay actual money for something he wished with all his heart he didn’t fucking need.

He’d googled it two weeks after the idea had first come to mind. It was unlikely, but not impossible for a transman to get pregnant. Connor had been hoping for impossible. Fuck. He’d needed it to be impossible! Unlikely left too much room for bad luck. And if there was one fucking thing Connor Murphy had in folds, it was bad luck. His name might as well be fucking _Murphy’s Law._ Everything about him was the worst possible scenarios coming true. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!” Connor threw the pregnancy test across the room and screamed. The test bounced off the wall and clattered to the floor. 

“Shit. Fucking. Damn!” He kicked the door of the bathroom, then turned around and punched the mirror. 

“GOD-FUCKING-DAMMIT!” He knocked the toothbrush holder and soap dish off the sink and slammed his foot against the door of the glass walled shower. 

“Shit. Fucking hell.” All his strength left him at once and he crumpled to the floor, tears streaming down his cheeks and sobs catching in his throat. 

“What the fuck do I do now?”

Connor cries alone in the bathroom until he has no energy left, then he drags himself into bedroom and sleeps like the dead.

He wakes up a few hour laters, feeling groggy with what’s probably a dehydration headache pressing behind his eyes. He’s not sure what had woken him until he rolled over and found Zoe standing over his bed, trying to set him on fire with her eyes.

When she noticed he’d woken, she kicked his mattress and spat out, “asshole.”

“What’d I do?” Connor asked, still more sleep than awake.

“You trashed the fucking bathroom, asshole. Mom goes to clean it up and what the fuck do you think she found beneath the mess?”

Connor, suddenly wide awake, sits bolt upright in the bed. “Fuck!” He’d forgotten about that damn pregnancy test, had left it on the bathroom floor when he’d dragged himself to bed. He’d been home alone when he’d taken the thing and had his little break down. It just completely slipped his mind that he would need to hide it.

“I just had to sit through the worst conversation of my life. No matter how many times I said Evan and I are not having sex, mom and dad were convinced the damn pregnancy test was mine. Like you’re actually a real boy or something and can’t get knocked up.”

“I am a real boy,” Connor growls, kicking at Zoe, but she was out of range. Zoe rolls her eyes and Connor just really kind of hates her in that moment. 

She did this sometimes. When she was particularly annoyed or pissed off at him, she would say he’s not a real boy or something else that invalidated his identity. Like being properly gendered was a reward reserved for “good” trans persons and misgendering was a punishment for “bad” trannys. 

Connor felt like his world was ending. He’d had no intention of letting his family find out about his latest screw up, but he’d manage to fuck up concealing his fuck up. If his parents had lectured Zoe when they’d thought the test was hers, they might just straight up murder Connor upon finding out it’s actually his.

Connor groans and buries his face in his hands. How had things gotten so bad so fast? 

“So…” Zoe drags the word out three seconds longer than it needs to be, her curiosity ringing in the word, “are you really… you know.?”

Connor groans again, his hands sliding from his face up to grip handfuls of his hair. Zoe takes that as confirmation and asks, “who’s the father, then?”

“Evan,” Connor replies without hesitation.

“Yeah right,” Zoe says with another roll of her eyes, not believing him for even a second. But why would she believe him? The idea of her boyfriend sleeping with her brother was just preposterous. The idea that Connor might be telling the truth wasn’t worth entertaining.

“Was it like a guy you actually like?” Zoe presses. “Or was it like your weed man when you were short on cash?”

“Fuck you.” And Connor hates her a little more, because she 100% believed he would be the type to sale his body for drugs, and that was bullshit. Or maybe he hates himself for presenting himself as that type of person.

Like he did on rare occasions, Connor wonders when and how things between him and Zoe had gotten so bad. They’d been close once. It felt like a lifetime ago, but they once had been as close as any other siblings. When had things changed? When had it gotten to the point where Zoe could only think the worst of him? And was there any way to fix it?

Well, sleeping with her boyfriend sure as hell wasn’t a way to fix his relationship with his sister. It was much too late now. Any remaining bridges between he and Zoe had gone up in flames the moment Connor had held Evan between his thighs in this very room.

But Zoe’s question was valid. Was Evan a guy Connor actually liked, or had he just slept with him for selfish reasons? Had he slept with Evan to hurt Zoe? Had he just been horny and wanting anyone? If it had been anyone else in his room that day, would Connor have had sex with them, or had it been because it was Evan? 

Even removing his relationship with Zoe from the picture, had Connor done it because it was Evan?

Connor had known Evan Hansen since they were four years old. They’d been in the same Pre-K class, and then the same kindergarten class, and then the same 1st-5th grade classes. All of Connor’s life, Evan had been there in the background: neither friend nor enemy, ally nor bully, just there; always in the peripherals, never center of attention. But, Connor had always been aware of him there.

While they’d only ever had a few conversations over the years and weren’t “friends” by any definition of the word, they were _friendly_. Evan had been around since before Connor had become “Connor” and had been the only one not to tease him about the change. In fact, Evan had been the first of his classmates to call him by his name and treat him as a boy.

Connor could still remember it so clearly. It had been in Mrs. G class, back before Connor had thrown that printer, it was time for partner reading and it was the one Friday of the month where they’d been allowed to choose their partner instead of having them assigned. 

Of course, no one had chosen Connor, and Kleinman, who Evan usually partnered with, had been out with the chickenpox. Mrs. G had noticed Evan alone and had told him he could either join another group or read silently. Evan had looked around the room, obviously terrified at the idea of having to intrude on another group, when he’d noticed Connor sitting alone, Evan had said “ _Connor doesn’t have a partner either. I can read with him, if that’s okay.”_

Until that point, everyone had still been calling him “Angela” and laughing at his protests, but shy little Evan Hansen hadn’t even hesitated to call him by name and use his proper pronouns. Mrs. G hadn’t looked too happy about it, but she’d already learned from experience that speaking to Evan in a tone that even hinted at her being displeased was a surefire way of making the boy cry, so she’d just nodded and sent him over to Connor’s desk.

It had been such a small thing in the grand scheme of things, but it had left a lasting impression on Connor and he’d always been aware of Evan Hansen ever since. Connor had, back then, hoped that he and Evan would become friends. But a week later was when the little league boys had cornered Connor on the playground and had pushed him off the slide and threatened him against joining the little league team. 

Evan had witnessed the whole encounter and had come over to Connor after the other boys had left, to check if he was okay, and Connor had yelled at him, directing his anger at the only person who was there. Evan had looked so hurt, there’d been tears building up in his eyes, and he’d ran away before Connor could apologize. Connor figured Evan would never want to be his friend after that, so he’d never tried to approach him. 

Over the years, Connor had more than once found himself watching Evan and sometimes wondering about _what could have been_. What if he’d never yelled at him on the playground all those years ago? What if he’d found the courage to apologize? What if they had become friends? Sometimes, Connor had found himself wanting that more than life itself.

Connor had regretted doing a lot of the things he’d done in elementary school, but becoming friends with Evan Hansen is the only thing he regretted _not_ doing and some irrational part of his mind was convinced that this single missed opportunity was the only reason things remained to so fucked up now. Like Evan’s friendship was the key to his happily ever after, or something. But there was a reason that part of his mind was called irrational.

It got even more irrational when Evan had started dating Zoe. Because suddenly Evan was a prize Connor had been unable to win, but Zoe had gotten instead. It was a ridiculous thought and Evan deserved more than to be treated as a trophy by Connor, so Connor had resolved to ignore him, for both of their good. 

But suddenly Evan was everywhere. Avoiding him at school was easy, but coming home to find Evan sitting at the dinner table, or relaxed on the living room couch, or laughing in Zoe’s bedroom, was a lot harder to avoid. And even when he wasn’t there, he was present: his name being brought up in conversation, his jacket hanging on the rack by the door, his scent lingering in the halls. He was everywhere.

And then Cynthia had made it her mission to make Connor and Evan be friends, because Evan was such a nice boy maybe it would rub off on Connor, so she shoved them together every opportunity she could find. 

Connor had spoken more with Evan in the last three months than in a lifetime of shared classrooms. They still weren’t friends, but they were having conversations. Real conversations. Not just imagined interactions when Connor was feeling low. And, holy fuck, who knew Evan Hansen could be such a witty smartass once you got passed the stuttering and anxiety? Or that he had such great taste in music? 

Shit. Connor had an answer now. 

Yes, he’d slept with Evan for selfish reasons. But it hadn’t been to hurt Zoe. It had been because Connor actually liked Evan. Somehow, someway, Connor had developed a crush on his sister’s boyfriend. He’d slept with Evan because he’d wanted Evan to notice him. He’d wanted to mean something to Evan. He’d wanted to play a role in Evan’s life that wasn’t just his girlfriend’s brother. 

Connor had, for completely selfish reasons, seduced Evan into his bed and had taken his virginity.

And now Connor has to live with the consequences.

“So,” Zoe asks, “what are you going to do?”

* * *

“Did you hear?” Jared asks with an expression on his face that says he’s holding on to the juiciest bit of gossip that had ever graced the halls of Ellison County High School.

“Hear what?” Evan asks, not sure if he really wants to know, but knowing that Jared is going to tell him anyway even if he doesn’t respond.

Jared grins much too wide and lean towards Evan to speak in a whisper that was much too loud, “Connor Murphy is pregnant.”

For a second, Evan is sure he had misheard, but the expression on Jared’s face tells him he’d heard exactly what he’d thought. Evan is shook. “How do you know that?”

“Don’t question my sources, just know that it’s true.”

Evan glares at Jared. “How am I supposed to just accept that?” he hisses.

Jared shrugs. “If you don’t believe me, just ask Zoe.” He points to something over Evan’s shoulder and Evan turns for find Zoe hurrying down the hall in their direction. 

She has her head down and is being bombarded by whispers from every direction. Evan’s suddenly sure that, even if there’s no truth to the rumor Jared had just shared, he isn’t the only one passing it around.

Evan hesitates to approach Zoe. Things between them had been… awkward for a while now. It was entirely Evan’s fault. Ever since his _encounter_ with Connor, four months ago, Evan had been kind of distancing himself from Zoe. His guilt over sleeping with Connor had been eating at him, but he was too scared to confess what he’d done.

Technically they were still dating, but they’d been spending a lot less time together, with Evan always making excuses to not do things when Zoe asked. Zoe had cornered him about it a few weeks after he’d started pulling away. She was convinced that Connor had done something to him that had scared him away. Evan had denied it, but it was obvious Zoe didn’t really believe him.

Evan bolsters up his courage and heads over to Zoe. “Hey, Zo!” He calls out to her. Zoe seemed to have been lost in her head and actually startles when Evan suddenly appears next to her.

Her startled expression turns to an easy smile when she realizes who he is, though. “Hi, Evan,” she greets, grabbing his hand and kissing his cheek.

Evan smiles and squeezes her hand gently. “How are you?”

Zoe glances around the hall at all the people still staring at her. “Been better.”

Evan wants to ask her right away, but he can tell now’s not a good time. “Do you want got get frozen yogurt after school?” He asks instead. “Maybe take a walk in the park?”

Zoe’s face brightens like the sun surfacing from behind a cloud. “That would be great. Just like our first date.” Evan heart skips a beat in his chest and he wonders how he could have ever considered Connor beautiful enough to be worth straying for when Zoe is the most beautiful person on the planet. “Meet in the parking lot after classes?”

Evan nods. “See you then.” He and Zoe don’t have any classes together, nor do they share the same lunch period, so after classes would be the soonest they saw each other again unless they happened to see each other during passing periods (unlikely with their current schedules.)

They’d been walking towards Zoe’s first hour class as they talked and the warning bell rang just as their conversation concluded, so Evan only had time to press a quick kiss to Zoe’s cheek, before having to rush across the school to his own first period.

Evan is the misused version of the word anxious all day, as well as the real definition of the word. Meaning he’s feeling both eagerness and anxiety. He’s eager for the school day to end, so that he could meet up with Zoe and question her about the rumors (and just to spend time with her, of course, because she’s his girlfriend and he loves her), but the chance of having the rumors validated causes panic to well up inside him and he barely manages to keep from hyperventilating more than once throughout the day (especially when he realizes Connor isn’t present in any of their shared classes).

Evan rushes to his locker after the final bell rings, but ends up dragging his feet when it’s time to meet up with Zoe. The student parking lot is almost empty by time he makes it out to her car, where she’s sitting on hood waiting for him.

“Hey,” she greets him with a smile, “how was your day?”

“Uh… it was fine. How was yours?”

She makes a flippant hand motion and walks around get into the car. “Let’s get out of here.”

Evan climbs into the passenger seat and barely has time to fasten his seatbelt before Zoe is pulling out of the parking lot as fast as she can. She’s not smiling anymore. There’s a hard look in her eyes as she stares out at the road ahead of them, her grip on the steering wheel is really tight, and she’s driving more recklessly than Evan had ever seen her before.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course,” the words come out harsh and lacking any form of reassurance. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem a bit… tense.”

Zoe’s switches lanes with signalling and takes a corner way too fast. “It’s just been a long day. Everybody kept coming up to me and asking about Connor and it just got really annoying really fast. Just, why is it always Connor, ya know? Why does he always need to be the center of everything?”

“So…” Evan starts to ask, but Zoe isn’t listening. She’s still talking, but he’s not entirely sure she’s talking to him.

“He’s just so damn selfish. It always has to be about Connor all the time and fuck the rest of us. He always has to find a new way to stand out. First it was that trans shit, then it was the gay shit, the drugs and rehab, and the fucking suicide attempt. And now this. I just hate him so much sometimes. It’s like he killed my sister and replaced her with a monster.”

Zoe screams as she pulls the car to a stop in front of the frozen yogurt place. She screams again and punches the steering wheel. “Zoe,” Evan says softly, reaching out to her.

Zoe looks over at him as if she’d forgotten he was even there, she moves her hand away before his touch could land. There are tears on her face She sighs and wipes at her eyes. “I’m sorry, Evan, I’m suddenly not feeling up to this date. How about I drive you home and we’ll do this later.”

She’s already pulling the car back into traffic before he can even respond. The drive to his house is silent, both of them trapped in their own heads. Zoe pulls up in front of the Hansen house and seems completely disinterested in the kiss Evan plants on her cheek before he gets out of the car. She offers only a half-hearted wave as she drives away.

Evan heads into the house, barely fighting back his rising panic, because Zoe had practically confirmed that Connor was pregnant (without actually saying the words) and so the obvious question now is: is the baby Evan’s?

Evan has barely sat down when he hears a car honking outside. For a second, he thinks maybe Zoe had come back, but one glance out the window tells him he’s wrong.

“Hansen, I see you in the window!” Connor yells. “Get your ass out here!” He slams on the horn a couple more times and Evan’s scared that all him neighbors are watching. Evan yanks the door open and rushes outside just to stop the noise.

“Connor, what are you doing here?” Evan whisper-yells.

“Get in the car,” Connor orders in lieu of a response.

“What?” Evan asks, looking around sure that everyone on the street is watching them from behind their curtains.

“In. The. Car.” His tone leaves no room for argument. Evan has no choice but to comply.

“Where are we going?” He asks once he’s buckled into Connor’s passenger seat. Connor doesn’t answer and Evan resigns himself to another silent car ride with a Murphy sibling. He reaches forward and cranks up the radio. Tries not the dwell on the fact that this is the first time he’s been alone with Connor since that night four months ago. 

* * *

Connor had found out about the place through one of the trans community message boards he liked to lurk. It was only a couple hours away, so Connor figured ‘why not’. It wasn’t like there was anyone he could talk to about what he was going through in this town, after all. He’d gone alone and had just sat in silence, not contributing anything to the conversation, not even when prompted to stand up and introduce himself. 

He’d thought the whole thing was just a waste of time, so he had no clue why he’d gone back the following week, or the week after that, still not contributing anything but just listening to everyone else’s stories and situations. 

He didn’t know why he’d decided to bring Evan with him this time. Maybe because he’d been the only one without someone with them every time he’d gone before, and there was no one else he could bring with him?

Evan looks around curiously, but follows Connor into the community center without protest. The room Connor leads them into is pretty bland: white painted cement walls adorned with motivational posters, dirty beige carpeting, plastic chairs arranged in a circle, and a folding table holding drinks and snacks against a back wall.

He and Evan are a few minutes late and thus the last to arrive. Connor looks around at the people already sitting in the circle, a few of them familiar faces from previous weeks, some completely new.

“Welcome, welcome, have a seat. We were just about to get started.” Doug was the same person who’d been running the group since Connor had started attending, though there had been mentions of him just filling in for someone who was out on family leave. He always smiled so warmly at Connor, even when Connor was being his usual unfriendly self. But Doug’s smiles and welcomes always felt genuine. Maybe that was why Connor had kept coming back?

“Alright,” Doug says after Connor had pulled Evan down into two chairs that were somewhat detached from, but still a part of, the circle. “As you all probably know, this is a support group for trans men, and a guest, who are currently pregnant, have previously been pregnant, or are hoping to become pregnant in the future.”

He looks around at everyone in the circle and smiles at them all, before continuing, “I’m Doug. I’m currently in charge of this little group, but the former facilitator, Aaron, will be back by the end of the month. He and his twins are doing great, by the way, if any of you are wondering. 

“Now, I do see some new faces here, but I’m not going to force anyone to stand and introduce themselves if they don’t want to. I’m not even going to force anyone to talk about their situation if they’re not willing. We’re a pretty loosely structured group, and if no one wants to talk, we can just sit here until the snack run out and then head home. But if anyone would like to start a discussion, the floor is open.”

Doug sits back down and no one says anything for a while, until one of the new people stands up. By appearance, it’s a visibly pregnant teenage girl probably younger than Connor, but considering their current location, Connor knows better than to judge gender by appearance.

“Hi, I’m Taylor. I’m three months pregnant, and I’m new here, obviously, but I’m still not entirely sure I should be here at all.”

“Well, are you trans?” Doug asks.

Taylor shrugs. “Maybe. I think so. But I could just be a lesbian. I mean, every girl hates being a girl sometimes, right? Like at _that_ time of the month? And with all the impossible beauty standards being imposed on us by the media, it makes sense to hate my body too, right?” She sighs. “Maybe I was wrong to come here. This isn’t really the platform for people still figuring out their gender identity.”

“Taylor, if you’ve ever for a second questioned your gender, then you’re as welcomed here as everyone else.” The person who spoke up was a guy named Ted who’d been present at all the other meetings Connor had attended. Connor knew from previous discussion that Ted was the father of three and had carried all his children himself. His wife, Lynn, was a cis-woman who did not wish to become pregnant herself. Each of their children had been conceived through a fertilization clinic.

“I’ve been questioning my gender a lot, lately. That’s how I ended up pregnant in the first place.”

Connor only half pays attention to the rest of the discussion that takes place with Taylor. After about twenty minutes, Doug steers the conversation to a close. The meetings only went for an hour, and he wanted other people to have the chance to speak up if they wanted to.

As soon as the floor is opened again, Connor takes the chance to stand. All eyes are on him immediately and he’s suddenly not sure about this. Next to him, Evan shifts uncomfortably and Connor sighs. “Hi, I’m Connor, I’m four months pregnant, some of you may recognize me as the weirdo who’s just been sitting here in silence for the last month.”

Doug lets out a humored chuckle. “There’s nothing weird about not having anything to say. You’re more than welcome to just sit and take peace in being a part of the community.” He smiles. “But I am glad to finally have your name.”

Connor shuffles his feet, somewhat embarrassed. “Anyway,” he says, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets, “my situation is pretty much opposite of Taylor’s. I’ve known I’m trans almost all my life and have been living as a boy for about ten years now. Shit has been pretty terrible for about ten years now, as well, but that’s whatever.”

“What do you mean?” Doug presses. “You don’t have to explain, but I would like to know what you mean about things being terrible.”

“Well, it’s my family mostly. My mom has always been pretty supportive, except for a while she was under the misconception that this was just a phase I was going through and that if she just humored me, I would eventually go back to being her little girl. I was supposed to start puberty blockers when I was twelve, but my dad kept that from happening. It wasn’t until tried to cut my breasts off that they even let me start hormones. My little sister purposefully misgenders me whenever she’s pissed at me, and she’s pissed at me a lot. And ever since I got pregnant, my dad has been calling me by my dead name. He’s always thought it was impossible for me to be both gay and trans and thinks I’m just doing all of this for attention.”

Every face in the room turns pitying and sympathetic and Connor almost regrets sharing, because he very much does not want their pity. “I am so sorry you’re being put through that,” Ted says, “I know how that feels and it’s terrible.”

And Connor knows that he really does know how it feels. This isn’t like the people back in their small town where Connor has always been the odd duck out. Most of these people here really do know what he’s going through, because they’ve gone through it themselves.

“Well, that’s not even the worst of it,” Connor says. “My dad’s a lawyer. Corporate law. But I overheard him on the phone with a friend of his who is in family law. He wanted to know what steps would need to be taken in order to get my parental rights stripped away. He wants me ruled unfit, so that he and my mom can adopt my baby.”

“He can’t do that!” Taylor yells, angry on Connor’s behalf. “That’s complete bullshit.”

Connor just shrugs as if he doesn’t care, but the tears building behind his eyes tell a different story. “I think he can. I don’t think it’ll even be that hard for him. I am unfit, after all. I have a history of… anger problems, drug abuse, self harm, and attempted suicide.” He lists his faults on his fingers and says them as detached as if he was reading off a shopping list. 

“And it’s not like I have the means to support a child. You know, I never wanted a kid in first place, I just... “ Connor sighs and takes a second to compose himself, because his emotions are quickly spiralling beyond his control. “I haven’t smoked once since I learned I’m pregnant. I’ve stopped taking my hormones. I’ve gone to every doctor’s appointment and have done everything the doctor says. I’ve done everything, every-fucking-thing I can to make sure this baby comes out healthy and whole and not as fucked up as I am. And just because I didn’t want her before doesn’t mean…”

Connor growls and rubs harshly at his eyes when the tears begin to spill over. “I’m trying. I know I won’t be a good parent. And I know my baby deserves better, but I’m trying. And it’s not fair that they’re going to try and take her from me before I even get the chance to keep trying. I know she’s not going to magically fix me, but she makes me want to be better, because I want to be good for her. I want her.”

“What about the baby’s other parent,” Lynn asks. “Is there a chance he could take her? Fight for her so that the two of you could raise her together?”

Connor very pointedly does not look at Evan the way everyone else in the room does. It’s a safe assumption that Evan is the father because he was the one Connor had brought with him, and it was a true assumption, but Connor didn’t want these people to know that. “That other father is… This isn’t his problem. I have no right to get him involved in this mess. Besides, he has a girlfriend that he loves. I was just… well, I don’t know what I was to him, but I’m definitely not what he wants.”

“What an asshole,” Jim, another of the familiar faces in the group, says.

“N’aw. He’s a great guy. Amazing, really. Better than I deserve. I took advantage of him in a moment of weakness. I knew what I was signing up for when I had him in my bed, but I was being selfish. I just… I wanted him so damn much. Anyway, I wouldn’t dare ask him to fight for a child he didn’t agree to having in the first place. 

“My parents are going to take her. And there’s nothing I can do about it, because if it goes to court, I know I won’t win. And I know they only want her for a chance at a do-over. Something obviously went wrong with me, and my little sister suffered for it too. But, I’ll be eighteen by time my daughter is born, so they can kick me out and keep her and have the chance to do things right this time. But my daughter deserves better than to be a replacement for the girl I used to be.”

Connor pauses. “Sometimes… sometimes I think I should just kill myself now. It’s the only way I could keep her with me forever.”

Evan shoots to his feet so fast his chair topples over, bringing every eye in the room back to him. He freezes like a deer in headlights, his mouth flaps open and close as he searches for something to say, but then he just turns and runs from the room without saying anything.

* * *

Evan had broken his arm at the end of the summer. He’d told everyone that he had fallen out of a tree, but that wasn’t the truth.

The truth was, he’d climbed a tree because he wanted to know what the world would look like from up there, because surely some greater meaning to life was lost to those confined to the ground. But what he’d found at the top wasn’t meaning, but the realization that _he meant nothing_. 

He realized that no one would care if he’d disappeared, even if they did notice (and he doubted they would notice.) He realized that he was nothing but a burden on his mom and to her he would always be something that needed fixing. He’d realized that everything would be better for everyone if he’d just let go.

So he’d let go.

In the first few days after getting the cast, Evan couldn’t figure out which he regretted more: letting go, or surviving.

And then the new school year had started. And Jared had stolen his letter to Zoe and put it her locker, and life suddenly had meaning. Zoe Murphy was everything he’d ever imagined and more. And she was his girlfriend. She’d found him worthy.

He’d thought he’d had everything he had ever wanted.

And yet, somehow he’d ended up here.

“Why Connor?” Zoe asks, her voice dead, but her eyes broadcasting her pain clear as day. “Of everybody in the world, why did it have to be Connor?”

“Zoe, I’m sorry.”

“Why him!” Zoe demands to know. “Why is it always him? He’s destroyed every good thing in my life!”

“Zoe…”

“I can’t forgive this, Evan,” Zoe interrupts. “Maybe if… If it was anyone else, I could forgive it, but not Connor.”

“I don’t expect your forgiveness,” Evan says. “What I did was unforgivable.”

“Why are you telling me now? You hid it this long, why now?”

“Because you deserved to know. You deserve better. You deserve a boyfriend who doesn’t break your trust and lie to you. You deserve someone faithful. I’m just sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

…

 **Jared:** Did you hear?

 **Evan:** Hear what?

 **Jared:** Rumor has it, Connor Murphy skipped town right after this birthday.

 **Evan:** What?

 **Jared:** He hasn’t been seen in over a week.  
**Jared:** His car was found abandoned off the highway leading out of town.

 **Evan:** Good for him.

 **Jared:** What?

 **Evan:** Good for him. I’m sure wherever he is now is better than here.  
**Evan:** I sure he’s surrounded by people who will support and help him more than anyone in this town ever did.  
**Evan:** I wish him and his daughter nothing but the best.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from song "Neptune" by Sleeping At Last.


End file.
